Black Parade (Beginnings Series Book 24) Page 6
We traveled for months, seven more months to be exact. Buster, our horse was shot somewhere around Wyoming. But we made it into Montana.
I felt it. I really felt we were close.
We had raided a military base and picked up some good maps. East Montana. Mountains. I searched for the area that could hide a community and there was only one county there that fit the bill.
Garfield.
Granted, it wouldn’t be the first time we followed a wrong lead, but I felt it. Prior to Vegas, we had backtracked into Utah. But that was a bust.
Inside of Garfield county we stopped at a small town named Miles City. In fact, it was one of a very few small towns located near the mountain range.
We aimed for that range.
The plan was to rest up in Miles City for a couple of days, then head for those mountains. We intended to climb as high as we could and look. Surely if Utopia was nestled in there, we’d see it from a mountain top.
If we found it we’d mark it on our map, get cleaned up, make our way there and beg for them to let us in. No wait, not beg, impress them enough to let us in.
It was our second day in Miles City when Bentley and I had our typical Utopia pipe dream conversation while sitting on a rooftop of a three story building. Roof tops always gave us the best protection for incoming attacks. They were also a safe place to fire from.
It was there we hung out and talked.
We were afraid, you know, that we weren’t good enough. That we had nothing to offer. After all, it was Utopia. What could we give them that they didn’t already have? They wouldn’t be Utopia if they needed anything.
“Dan, they don’t have a barber. I’m telling you,” Bentley said.
“They have to have a barber, Bent. It’s Utopia.”
“Then they don’t have a stylist.”
I snickered.
“Seriously, Dan, if they do, he or she isn’t as good as me. I’ve created some good styles back at Gray.”
I nodded with a condescending look.
“And my colors.” Bentley winked. “Are second to none.”
“You know what? You kick ass on inventing hair care stuff. You really do. In the old world, shit! You’d have been rich if you and I had hooked up.”
“In the old world, I wouldn’t have been inventing colors.”
“True.”
“I bet they haven't even thought about dying hair.”
“Bent, it’s Utopia. Of course they did. They may not even know of the plague.”
“They know of the plague. They grab survivors.”
“OK, you've got a point.”
“You know what it is? You can feel how close Utopia is.”
I nodded. “You’re right and I’m getting excited.”
At that moment, in the middle of our roof top talk, my tracker went off.
I looked down. Four black dots. They were moving fast, as if in a vehicle.
That wasn’t right, the soldiers never moved fast.
Four dots. They never traveled in packs of four, so there had to be more.
I peered over the roof.
I expected to see more, I didn’t expect to see only four men.
There were soldiers. Wearing camouflage. They were in a jeep and they stopped. A couple of them were laughing.
“Over there,” the one said with a point. “Just get what you can. Ben can make adjustments.”
From the corner of my eye I saw Bentley reach for his weapon. I held out my hand and stopped him.
“What are you doing?” Bentley asked.
“They aren’t the same,” I said.
“How do you know?”
“One, they’re laughing. Two, there is no CS patch. Three, they are wearing the American flag. Four … they’re going in a tux shop.”
“What’s Beginnings?” Bentley asked.
“What?”
“Beginnings. Instead of US Army, the plate says. Beginnings. Look.” He handed me the binoculars.”
“Bent,” I gasped out. “They’re from Utopia.”
“No.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m telling you. Look at them, crisp, going in a tux shop. Happy. They’re …”
I was silenced by the vibration of my tracker. I looked down. Six red dots.”
“See.” Bentley said. “I knew …”
“No. They aren’t with the putes.”
Putes was the name I had given the soldiers with the computer chip.
“How do you know?”
“The putes are aiming at them.”
The four men from the jeep, the ones with a Beginnings plates, weren’t even aware they were targets.
I watched as the putes raised their weapons.
“Shit,” I said. “Bent, get ready.”
He was.
Before the putes could fire off a shot, Bentley and I took them out.
The Jeep guys immediately raised their weapons.
I saw the look on the one’s face. I’d venture to guess he was leading the four man group. He saw the dead Pute. “Thanks,” he said to another one of his men.
“For what?” His man asked.
“For taking him out.”
The guy shrugged. “I didn’t do it. I thought you did.”
They began a round and round between the four of them on how each of them thought the others had shot the putes. I didn’t listen to the remainder; I made my way to the street. I had to know.
Were they from Utopia?
My gut screamed yes.
I believed it. I really believed it.
“Beginnings,” A man named Cole said. “Beginnings, Montana.”
I didn’t expect for Utopia to be named Utopia, and Cole didn’t know what I was talking about.
The sheer fact that during our conversation he said he needed a drink and pulled out a flask told me all I needed to know.
They lived civilized. They had flasks. Visited a tux shop. He told us about how they had all the food they needed. And medicine.
It had to be. It just had to be Utopia.
Another man from Beginnings arrived shortly to meet me.
In the midst of our conversation, another round of Putes happened upon us. If I didn’t know better I would have sworn they were chasing the Beginnings men.
After a round of fighting, exhilarating fighting, the second Beginnings man, Robbie, invited us along.
He had this bright honest smile. Perfect teeth. Teeth that had been tended to in the last five years.
When I told him about the Utopia we searched for, his reply was, Beginnings was as close to a Utopia as we could get.”
That was all I needed.
I asked if he could give me and Bentley a half an hour to get ready. He didn’t understand at first, but it was something I had to do. If I was going there, I was going to go as planned, with a haircut and dressed to make an impression that only I, Danny Hoi, could make.
9.
Utopia
The people of Beginnings
I thought back immediately to Mrs. Matthews and my father telling me that God saved us for a reason.
Why some were chosen and some were not was always beyond me until I stepped foot in Beginnings.
Beginnings was Utopia in all aspects of the word. Okay, well, after I got there it turned into Utopia.
You didn’t think I’d get there and not add the Danny touch, did you?
To say Bentley and I made a good impression was putting it mildly. We both cleaned up, dressed well, cut our hair and smelled good.
And just for information sake, they didn’t have a barber.
We were brought immediately to the leader’s office. Usually you are physically examined, then interviewed, then moved to a place called Containment, which I’ll get in to in a bit.
But before I continue, allow me to explain what I meant by I understood why some were chosen and some were not.
The leader of the community was Joe Slagel. A tough no nonsense man, in the military a long time, then wen
t into the CIA. He had raised his four sons before the plague on his own, well, with the exception of the few wives he had. It’s debatable between his sons how many women he actually married.
Joe was a man loved by his family and loved by the community. The Moses of the post apocalyptic word. He led them from the ruins to Garfield, Montana, and he instituted a no less than pure community. Some liken it to pure communism. Everyone works, everyone gets the same.
Tough as nails, sarcastic as hell, and a man everyone wanted to be.
Joe’s four sons … all survived the plague.
But not at the same time.
When I arrived in Utopia, only Frank and Robbie were there. Both were in Security. Robbie actually brought me to Beginnings.
He was charming, clean and funny.
Frank, well, he tried to be funny. Sometimes he wasn’t bright enough. However, what Frank lacked in knowledge he more than made up for in spirit, military intelligence and heroism.
Frank Slagel was the ultimate hero in the post plague world.
There wasn't a person he wouldn’t risk his life for or a situation he ran from. Danger called him. With all the shit that happened outside the walls of Beginnings, Frank managed to keep that community safe and sound.
Within the next two years of me being in Beginnings, the other two sons surfaced. One son, Hal, had started his own community. It was, in fact, a freedom movement to secure the country again. Soldiers, five hundred of them, followed Hal.
They dressed like the Calvary of the Civil War days, fought on horseback and carried swords.
I believe heroism is genetically linked because every Slagel, including Frank’s son Johnny, had that instinct.
They were born and bred to be heroes.
The Rift ...
My tracking device was the factor that brought me immediate in to see Joe. Robbie was impressed with it. Initially, Joe didn’t buy it. He thought it was a trick. I know I annoyed him because I was so taken by how official his office was.
When we proved the tracking was real, Joe was astounded. Even more so than Joe, Frank was excited. He asked if I could build it on a grand scale.
At the time I didn’t have a clue how, but I knew it wouldn’t take me long to figure it out. So I agreed. Being in Beginnings also offered me the resources to work on the microchips that were in the drone soldiers brains. I needed to figure out how they worked, why they worked, and how to stop the chip.
My talents were put to immediate use and I was thrilled.
So were Bentley’s for that matter.
We arrived in the midst of a whirlwind and both Bentley and I were able to help. The people in Beginnings were overrun with mediocre hair and in the throes of a war.
A war where they were outnumbered.
A war that was their doing.
It was bad enough with the savages, but the microchip soldiers made things worse.
We had no idea that while we battled them, Joe’s son Hal, also fought them, pushing them further and further east where they came from.
It was a civil war born in Beginnings.
They say curiosity killed the cat. Well, a man named Henry murdered the kitten.
There were several key players in what brought about the microchip soldiers. Key players, that had they not done their part, the plague ravished world would have been a little more peaceful.
But they played their part. And played the game.
Player one: Joe. Joe and the original eighteen didn’t just happen upon this secluded piece of land secured by an electric perimeter, with housing, farming supplies, etc.
They were led there.
By Player two, the President of the United States.
George Hadly, then President, knew of this place, called the Garfield project. In order for it to work, it needed people. Joe and the others were the people.
Even though George was the former president, Joe was the leader.
You know, thinking about it, George was more the game show host. He ran the game. But for the sake of history, we’ll still call him a player.
They moved to Garfield, renamed it Beginnings, farmed it and got it going. They brought in survivors and built a thriving community.
The one thing that made Beginnings different was the medical staff it had. One in particular, a huge player in the game was Dr. Dean Hayes. At the time of the plague, he was a brilliant virologist who worked on a cure. He came close, but never did it.
During the plague that was.
Dean was bound and determined to beat the plague. The virus. To cure it. He had to for future generations to come.
He was encouraged constantly by George to do so. On top of rebuilding antibiotics, Dean worked on curing that plague.
Underneath Beginnings was a series of tunnels. At the time, no one knew what they were for, but they were there.
Enter player four: Henry.
Henry is a micro version of me. He fixed things, did things, but I’ll never own up to him being as inventive as me. Heck, he was even Asian like me.
Henry worked and maintained the community. He maintained the generators. It was during routine testing he discovered something was not right.
While transferring all power to Generator One, Henry noticed that Generator Three was still draining power. Something was using that generator.
But what?
He couldn’t rest until he found out. He traced every single wire and line and accounted for them.
But the lines accounted for made no sense. They were lines running under Beginnings but they went directly into a wall.
Henry became obsessed with that wall. He studied it, trying to figure out where those lines went. What they powered. He became so obsessed he was almost removed from duty.
They thought he was nuts. He was warned to drop it.
But he wouldn’t give it up.
Not long after, on a winter night, Dean Hayes cured the plague.
Ironically, the same night Dean made the announcement to the community, Henry broke into that wall.
It opened.
The long gray wall that was always thought to be part of the tunnel system slid open, exposing a huge lab that was deep and wide.
In the lab was a long glass wall that divided the main lab from another room. In that smaller room, fifty-three individuals were cryogenically frozen.
The process for removing them from the cryogenic deep freeze was possible by using the equipment in the lab.
Dean Hayes figured it out. Why wouldn’t he? He had a brilliant mind.
But one problem remained. These fifty-three individuals were secured behind an airtight room. Data showed they were frozen before the plague.
So they hadn’t been exposed to the plague virus.
Knowing the air still contained the virus, Dean was certain that it would hit the fifty-three people like a bomb if they weren’t immune.
And it did.
Luckily, Dean had the cure. They didn’t die.
No one thought about what a strange coincidence it was that not long after Dean announced his breakthrough, the fifty-three were found.
These fifty-three were scientists, placed there to be defrosted after the world was over. The timing device had just failed to work.
They tried to take over Beginnings, but they failed. They moved on to their second location with Beginnings’ blessing.
What Beginnings didn’t know of was that George Hadly was aware of the frozen scientists all along and he was aware of the whole plan.
It had a domino effect.
The fifty-three left for other locations to release more, spreading out and releasing even more from multiple locations.
George eventually left Beginnings, gathered his forces, and started to rebuild by using the soldiers to gather survivors freely or against their will.
He did have his own reasons for wanting to build the country again, to get it back on its feet and to have a strong military presence. George Hadly firmly believed and stood by the fa
ct that one day, when we least expected it, we were going to be invaded. The United States provided seventy percent of the food for the rest of the world.
Eventually, the rest of the world would come for that.
That was the reason behind his rebuilding.
One everybody dismissed.
Day-to-Day...
Despite the conflicts and the microchip soldiers outside of Beginnings, life was Utopia within the secure walls.
When I first arrived, I was taken to a place called Containment. It was there that they processed ‘survivors’. They tested them to see if they were civilized and if they could be retrained to live in society.
Bentley and I were there one day.
I firmly believed they wanted Bentley out of there more than me. He had hair appointments lined up before his release.
My ability and talents were able to provide Beginnings with answers and technology they wanted.
Often times I’d chuckle because Joe would complain to me that, “It’s the Apocalypse, Danny. We’re supposed to struggle.”
But that wasn’t the case.
Beginnings was far more than a home. It was a way of life. Behind the secured walls, there was always plenty of food, the best medical attention, and freedom.
People lived as they wanted to.
They had moved on from the tragedies of the plague and though they’d never forget the loved ones lost, they were able to smile again.
Beginnings lived up to the urban legend it was. It was no less than a Utopia to everyone who lived there.
I was where I wanted to be.
There was no place else I wanted to go.
I was home for the rest of my days.
Life didn’t get any better, couldn’t get any better, than in Beginnings, Montana.
The Great War
10.
Peace at Last
Five hundred and twenty-three men made up the United Western Alliance. Horse soldiers who were reminiscent of the Civil War days in the way they dressed and fought.
A mere five hundred.